Iroha
by Monochromatic Mime
Summary: Gekkoukan High finds itself a new English teacher. What his employers don't tell him is that the school turns into a warped, demon-infested tower at midnight. Or that the messes he's expected to clean up are out to kill him. Then again, no one ever said that working for the Kirijo Group would be that easy... — OC novelization.


**Iroha**

leaping off the cliff

When I was a kid the only monster that ever terrorized me was my older sister and Santa Claus was about as real as my third grade teacher's G-sized breasts. I've never made any wishes on shooting stars or birthday candles. And I've never visited temples for anything beyond festivals, school trips, or New Years celebrations.

So when I found myself sitting across the school chairman and the daughter of one of my employers, a red armband and an evoker lying inside the briefcase between us, I desperately scrambled my brain for anything, any explanation resembling grounded sensibility, that would organize my current predicament into something realistic and tangible.

There are plenty of hot blooded men in Japan. Men younger than I am, who'd eagerly cock that gun and leap into whatever fucked up fantasy these people were trying to weave, so _why me_?

This isn't really the job I signed up for.

* * *

It was a choice between here, or another school in the middle of a country hick town.

"Hi. I'm Higure Nakajima. I'll be teaching you English," I droned.

The students of 3-D were what you'd expect from a typical classroom full of high schoolers hormonally charged, wishing they were hibernating back in their beds, and utterly bummed out that spring break was over.

But hey, they weren't the only ones who didn't want to be here either.

Egotistical and pretentious kids who liked to think they could be the next Karatani, the hot-blooded meatheads who wanted to be at the center of attention, that creepy kid sitting in the back who was probably into black magic or something like that... every classroom had to fill up the stereotype quota somehow.

Basically, nothing I couldn't handle. As long as they weren't a headache to deal with, I could care less whether I could get them to stand on their desks and go "Oh captain, my captain" or not. I could tell right away that this year would be a noisy bunch, if all the gossiping during the welcoming ceremony was anything to go by.

As of now though, the second hardest part about this job would be having to learn all of my students' names and faces.

"Excuse me, but what happened to Terauchi-sensei?"

But that was what seating charts were for.

I glanced down at the name 'Keisuke Hiragi'. The old-fashioned glasses, the neatly creased collar of his shirt accompanied by a fully buttoned uniform jacket, and a sunny, friendly smile. The classic image of your typical model student.

"Terauchi-san is away on maternity leave," I replied. "She won't be coming back to teach until next year."

I raised my eyebrow when several more hands flew up into the air, almost all of them from young guys with various levels of devastation on their faces. On the flip side, I could see that many of the girls in the classroom were pleased... and knowing the gleam in their eyes, hungry for gossip.

"If it's about who the father is, I have no idea. And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

I know of the importance of privacy. I also know how quickly word spreads throughout the student body. I didn't want the rep of a teacher who can't keep his mouth shut, and I knew at the end of the day it would be traced back to me. So I kept it short and simple and left it at that.

I heard their collective groans but I ignored them.

One lone hand remained.

"Yes?"

"What made you decide to become an English teacher, Nakajima-sensei?"

And then came the hardest part about this job, this question just _had_ to come from the one student I was wary of the most. She didn't look like her father at all, the exotic sanguine pigment of her hair and eyes contrasting starkly to Takeharu Kirijo's Japanese physique. Though she did inherit his intimidating hawklike eyes that looked like they could literally petrify anyone who messed with them stone cold... and right now they were pointed at me.

What they were looking for, I didn't know.

But it would be bad if I were to say something that could get me fired on my first day teaching here. So I decided to play it safe and answered as impersonally as I could.

"English was my best subject and I was interested in American culture for as long as I could remember. I made the decision to go into teaching after doing some part time work as a tutor."

I thought this answer would be enough, but several more hands rose up.

"Have you ever been to America?"

"Yes. I studied abroad over at California State University to get my teaching degree. After that, I taught at a few public schools before returning home to Japan."

"So then you've been to all 50 states?"

"Can't say I have. Though I've traveled to all of the Pacific states and a few states back east."

"What about Las Vegas?"

On top of slouching in his seat, Kai Shinomina seemed to have a bird's nest going on in his tea-colored hair. I recognized him as the boy who was chewed out by Kirijo for talking too much during the principal's opening ceremony speech. Going by his question, it probably won't be the last time either.

"It's what you'd expect from the movies. And no, we will not be going there for the school trip this year," I said immediately when I saw another hand shoot up in the air, "Even if we did somehow end up on a trip to Vegas, you have to be 21 to gamble. That's the law there."

Inwardly, I rolled my eyes as Shinomina began to count with his fingers how many years, I could only assume, it would take him to reach that age.

"Is it true that anyone in America can own a gun? Even a child?"

I didn't know who asked that particular question, but I inwardly groaned all the same at the level of interest I was seeing in the faces of my students. Kids never got this excited when it came to lessons on comma usage or syntax. Seeing as how it's illegal for any citizen to carry a gun in Japan, I suppose it was only natural that they were morbidly curious. But still...

"Gun laws vary from state to state. But I believe you have to be 18 to possess firearms and 21 to purchase them. Contrary to what you might think, there are places in the U.S. where you can't just walk in carrying a gun in broad daylight. Not everyone there is gung-ho about guns."

Well, except maybe Texans.

"Have you ever handled a gun before, Nakajima-sensei?"

I met the steely gray eyes of Akihiko Sanada. I've heard quite a bit about him due to his association with Kirijo. No family, but blessed with good grades, good looks, and a talent for boxing as if to compensate for that. Unlike Shinomina, Sanada seemed to be disturbingly very serious about this question in particular. Out of the corner of my vision, I could sense Kirijo subtly shifting in her seat as if she felt as uncomfortable as I currently was at being put on the spot.

"... No, I haven't."

Thinking back on this moment, that should have been the tip off that something was strange about this school. Instead, I interpreted her reaction as a warning to get my ass into teacher mode.

"Okay," time to put my foot down, "things are getting a little too out of hand now. No more questions about firearms, or gambling, or Vegas, or anything. If you do, I'm writing you up. Okay? Okay. Does anyone have anything else they want to ask?"

Only one person raised his hand.

"Yes," I glanced at the seating chart for the umpteenth time, "Suemitsu?"

"Can I go to the bathroom?"

_Well, it wouldn't be a typical day at school without someone asking _that_ question at least once._

I sighed.

"Sure. Why not?"

* * *

It was only the first day of school and Ekoda already looked like he was going to strangle the next poor unsuspecting student that crossed his way.

"They're getting worse and _worse_ every year! If they're supposed to lead the future, then this nation is going to the dogs," he hissed. "Why, if you compared today's standards to the Kemmu Era-"

The staff room is a lot like a classroom or the hallways during lunch break. Even though we're all supposed to be adults, it's only human nature to trash talk other people. While I've had my share of nightmare students and could sympathize with him, I could tell this would be a long, long rant. Thankfully, I was well versed in the art of pretending to pay attention.

"-is supposed to be a prestigious school! How is it that they managed to pa-"

I felt my cellphone vibrate. Holding it under my desk, I lowered my head so that my bangs could provide a cover for my eyes and attempted to discretely read.

[in case u were wondering he has sebumi rika, moriyama natsuki, and aizawa emi assigned to his homeroom. ganguros. bad attendance, bad attitude, bad work ethics. even i would have a hard tiem dealing with them ╮(─▽─)╭]

"-arents don't do anything about it! Why don't they think about the teachers who have to clean after their messes!?"

"Ah," I nodded distantly in Ekoda's direction. "Yes, that's rather troublesome indeed."

"Right? I don't believe in corporal punishment but-"

Figures Isako would already be up to speed on the latest dirt.

Back in our high school years, she reigned supreme as the gossip queen. I remember the time when I asked my first love out and she had said yes. It had only been two hours when Isako tracked me down and grilled me about when, where, and why. And not just my dating life, but my work life too. She'd always claim that her status as a friend helped her to 'sense things intuitively', but I wouldn't be surprised if she bribed strangers, coworkers, and her own students for info. Maybe she even bugged all the hallways and bathrooms. Of course, she'd kill me on the spot if I were to suggest it out loud.

[Let me guess, he got on her case for not following dress code. So she retaliated by humiliating him in front of her peers.]

"-nd if those spoiled brats don't want to be here-

[close she was also on her cellphone]

Huh.

"-then why not just let them _leave?_"

I pocketed my cell phone at that. The last thing I needed was Ekoda catching me and using the incident as an excuse to continue rambling on about other things gone wrong with this world. Like, say, how shameful it is for a pure-blooded Japanese like me to pick up bad manners over in America and being tainted by foreigners or something. He did that the first time we met, and he made it pretty clear he didn't like me at all. Very often I wonder if there was anything he _did_ like. He hardly ever bothered hiding his hatred for anything non-Japanese, unless it's in front of Kirijo or the principal. And right now, it seemed that his hatred of delinquents surpassed even that.

It was a little after Ekoda finished that the other teachers entered the room. One common game we always play at the beginning of every new year is, "who has the best class roster?"

"I got stuck with the French Exchange student," Takenozuka groaned.

"Oh, he's not _that_ bad," Ono chided. "I actually got to speak with him this morning. He was having a ball when we were discussing the Sengoku era, that one. You just don't see that with our youngsters regarding their own homeland's history these days."

Ekoda darkened even more at that.

Takenozuka only raised his eyebrows, muttering under his breath as he sat beside me, 'Are you sure he's not just a samurai otaku or something?' and then grunting.

"Still, his funny way of speaking is going to be troublesome to deal with."

"What about you Toriumi?" Ounishi asked.

"Oh, well I'm stuck with Yukari Takeba, Junpei Iori, and Kenji Tomochika," Isako replied flippantly.

"Iori and Tomochika I can understand, but what's wrong with Takeba?"

"Don't get me wrong. She's a good student. It's just... when you put in her the same room with Iori..."

"Aaah, I see what you mean now."

"Isn't it the third time now that they've been lumped together in the same classroom together?"

"Someone should consider setting them up."

"Eh, good luck with those two. I think Nishiwaki and Miyamoto have a better chance of getting together than Iori and Takeba."

"You think so?"

"I'm confident enough to put down 2000 yen."

"Hmph, let's make it 3000 yen."

It's a secret to the students. But more than the latest incidents with delinquent students or lessons plans gone horribly wrong, teachers talk about the love lives of the student body more than any other topic in the staff room. I was surprised at first when I witnessed it, but I soon came to understand that there weren't many differences between teachers and students when you take away age and authority. As for me, however...

"I don't envy you at all," Takenozuka told me, when I revealed that I had Kirijo in my homeroom.

"And Sanada too. You'll have to be extra careful around those two. One wrong step and it's goodbye to your job _and_ to your entire teaching career."

"Hell, any job at Tatsumi Port Island."

I recalled how my class went this morning and cringed.

"Don't worry about it, Higure," Isako said, patting me on the shoulder. "Knowing you, I think you'll last maybe 3 days."

"Gee, thanks for the overwhelming support."

She beamed, "Any time."

She was a terrible friend. But for the sake of her students, hopefully she wasn't a terrible teacher.

There were several types of teachers.

Ideally, teachers should be both good at the subject they teach and good at handling their students.

But there were teachers who come into this field because they loved interacting with their students, yet mediocre at their subject.

Teachers who come into this field because they were excellent at their subject, but don't care much for their students.

And then there were teachers like Ekoda who simply hated their jobs. I've seen guys like him at my other schools... in Japan, in America, way too often that it's actually rather depressing. Guys who were passionate about their major despite the crummy job market for them. With a major like classical literature, you can take a gamble and write books that _may_ get acknowledged and published. Or, you can try to beat the knowledge you spent years polishing and writing reams of papers for to a bunch of kids who don't really give a crap about boring archaic word salads written by a bunch of dead old geezers.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my share of literature. But that's the thing, most people, especially kids today, see books as just that - boring word salads. It's clear he hates his job. But it was incredible that someone like him even managed to make it to his 9th year of teaching.

"I'll go insane at this rate," Ekoda grumbled.

"I already am," I deadpanned. "Y'know the best thing about schizophrenia? You're never alone."

He shot me an exasperated glare while the others chuckled.

I don't tell them that I was only half-joking.

* * *

"You'll find that there are many misconceptions attached to schizophrenia," my doctor once told me, "It is not an inherently violent disease. Rather, it is a mental disorder characterized by the distortions of one's perception of reality."

Seeing coffins everywhere.

Moon going green.

Blood everywhere.

Distortions of reality seems about right.

"Oh," I mumbled numbly, my mind too blank from shock to come up with anything else to say.

And really, what could someone say to that?

I was 17 at that time, my life already a huge mess without the help of a mental illness. I no longer had a high school to go to, I no longer had a home to go to, my relationship with my girlfriend at the time was rocky, and what I wanted to do with my future was as uncertain as my place in the world. And now I was met with the sudden possibility of being locked away in the crazy house for the rest of my life.

"Wh-what," I struggled to keep my voice from cracking, "What... does this mean for me?"

"Well, Nakajima-san, your condition compared to other common cases appears to be rather acute. Irregular, even. You do not possess any of the paranoia, memory impairment, or any other additional disorders that sometimes comes with schizophrenia. In fact, it appears that only your sense of sight and your sense of time are being affected."

"Oh... okay..."

So basically, that was a good thing... I think. I'm apparently sick, but not as sick as most people with schizo.

One of the fortunate things about my mental illness was that it was predictable... if that made any sense. It was only after a certain hour that the hallucinations would start occurring. It was my doctor, Hidefumi-sensei, who figured the pattern out. Though there were other details that were pretty sketchy. Like the reason why the hallucinations always happen at that specific time, why they happen daily (which ruled out any possibilities that there were triggers for these episodes), or why they even happened at all.

"That being the way it is, as long as you can distinguish those hallucinations from reality, you _should_ still be able to resume your everyday life with relative ease," she told me.

And then I was released back into society on the condition that I continue to take my medication and check in with a doctor every month. To be honest though, in all of the years I've been prescribed medicine, not one day came where I didn't experience an episode of some sort. So I continued to take them, lied about their effectiveness, and settled for a strict sleeping pattern instead.

If the hallucinations occurred at a specific time, then I could simply sleep through them.

If I'm not experiencing the hallucinations, then I can pretend I am normal.

That was what I had thought at the time.

But what worked in Japan didn't carry over in America.

Coffins just as prevalent, oceans and rivers running red. But where there should have been green skies and yellow moon was a black hole for a sun punching paper white skies.

Trying to sleep through it would mean sleeping in the day time at work or school. I might be able to get away with sleeping in class. But at work, my boss would probably yell at me or worse, give me the boot.

So there wasn't anything else I could do except to bear with it and try to psychoanalyze myself.

At first I thought that maybe I was actually some kind of closet psychopath. What kind of person has hallucinations where everyone turns into a creepy coffin? But after giving it a lot of thought, I scrapped it. While I hated dealing with people, I didn't _really_ want to see all of humanity dead on a daily basis. If only because the coffins disturbed the hell out of me in the first place. And while that was a _lot_ of blood that I was seeing, Hidefumi-sensei assured me that I wasn't displaying any homicidal tendencies so I didn't need to check myself in for a straight jacket. Seeing as how I haven't woken up to any dead bodies yet, I believe her for now.

After several years, I've become accustomed to the whole thing to the point where it's just a minor inconvenience. But there was one more mystery to my condition that continued to bother me.

"Welcome home."

"Yeah, thanks."

I didn't need to see the speaker's face to know who it was.

At this time of night, it can only be _him_.

"How was your day?"

"Awful," I answered automatically.

He first came to me when a combination of medication and alcohol went wrong. My first thought was that Pharos was a split personality or something. But then I remembered what Hidefumi-sensei told me a long time ago. Schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder are two separate mental illnesses. It's just that thanks to Hollywood and the media, people keep mixing them up together. Besides, even if I was seriously sick enough to have both, people who have multiple disorders aren't consciously aware of what their other personalities say or do. Gaps of time in my memory never occurred unless it involved sleep, so that can't be it. Thus, I came to the conclusion that if this boy isn't a secondary identity, then he must be another one of my hallucinations.

A very persistent one.

He keeps claiming to be a past acquaintance of mine, but I don't ever remember meeting a kid like him.

I know he can't be real regardless.

I know he can't be real because he hasn't aged at all in the 8 years I've known him.

But I responded to him anyway.

Loneliness at this age does that to you.

And perhaps that makes me only _slightly_ more crazy.

"System's different here than it was over in America, so I'm going to have to practically rebuild my lesson plans from scratch so that they match Japan's standards. Meaning, more workload on my plate," I sighed. "Normally, I'd just recycle them anyway and wing it but I don't think Kirijo would like it very much. I don't want to risk getting on their bad sides."

I tossed my coat onto the couch and dropped my bag near the coffee table.

"Oh. So then all those big books you've been reading lately...?"

"Yeah. And I've got several hundred more pages to go."

I cracked open one of my textbooks at that and flipped to a bookmarked page. Pharos doesn't really care whether or not you're making eye contact with him while in the middle of conversation. If anything, he tends to be extra chatty when it's awfully clear you're not listening to a single word he says. I of all people would know.

"So how are you getting along with your coworkers?"

"Why do you bother asking when it doesn't really mean anything to you?"

"Of course I do. It's only natural to be concerned about how a friend is doing," came the simple reply and the simple smile.

I pretended he didn't say that. Over the years, the only thing I've really learned about Pharos as that our 'friendship' is one of the things he will never budge on.

"... Aside from Isako, I didn't recognize anyone. It's only been a couple days so I don't really know what to think of them. Well, Ekoda probably doesn't like me. Isako though... it's weird seeing her again."

"How's that weird? You're always IMing each other on the weekends."

"Yeah. But it's just different seeing someone in person. How do I put it... while reading her words from a screen she still sounded 18 in my head. Now, it really hit me today that she's..."

"An old hag?"

"... sure." To a kid, I suppose 26 _was_ old. "But it would be more appropriate to call her a 'grown up'."

But admitting she was old would mean admitting I was old too.

"How come?"

"Women get touchy about their age."

Pharos tilted his head to the side. "I'm not sure I quite follow."

"You will eventually."

"You always say that."

The conversation drifted into silence after that. There was no point in explaining it to the kid when he probably didn't even understand what aging was. As if he could. I flipped to the next page and continued to read. As I was jotting down some notes, I could sense Pharos growing more and more restless. If his main method of movement wasn't that surreal teleportation trick, I suppose he'd be pacing around the room like any other kid. Rather than that creepy ghost kid you'd see in movies, he was more like that clingy little brother or monster sidekick that likes to annoy you.

"Higure, I'm bored."

Like that.

Always poking at me when he needs something to occupy himself with and throwing mild episodes when he doesn't get any attention.

"The computer is right over there."

"That's pointless you know."

Right... no electrical currents, so of course computer games were not an option.

"Besides, it's boring being by myself. Why don't you play with me instead?"

I tapped my finger against the cover of my textbook and gave him a pointed stare. There was no way I was going to drop my workload on the spot just to play hide and seek or tag or whatever. Especially with a hallucination of all things. I wasn't _that_ lonely.

"So close your book and come play. You're also bored anyway."

I frowned. It's not that he was wrong, but the way he said those words so factually bothered me.

"If I don't stay on top of my work, I'm going to get fired."

"Does it really matter?" Pharos asked, with an irritating lack of concern.

"Of course it does! How else-"

"But you don't even _like_ your job. You never liked school or your teachers. You never would've even considered becoming one if it weren't for your parents," he stated, face eerily calm, unreal. "So is there really a point in trying so hard? Why not just quit and go back to the st-"

Before I knew it, the textbook was on the floor and I was standing up out of my seat glaring at him.

He does that a lot. Talking about things that are privy only to me only reinforces the fact that he's just a product of my mind.

So much so that sometimes I wonder if he's some manifestation of my childhood... the expectations I had of life but none of the inevitable disappointments that came with them.

"_No_. I've come too far now to simply scrap everything and start from scratch. I might not like this job, but it's decent pay and most of all, it's _stable_."

Perhaps that's why I can't help but snap at him every time.

"... you used to love taking chances."

"Time does that to you."

It changes people. It brings them disappointment after disappointment. It creates schisms between even the closest of friends. And it wears them down until they're too tired to care anymore. He was the one who told me that it took us all to the same end. If we're all heading towards the same destination, then I preferred my path to be the one with the least amount of struggle.

"Besides, I don't have that kind of luxury anymore at this age."

Great, that's pretty much admitting that I _am_ old.

"..."

"Look, just leave me alone okay? I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Fine."

So he says. But he's still standing there and he's watching my tired face.

"How about going outside for a bit?"

"... this again?"

"This time I'm saying this for your sake. You're always isolating yourself at home."

I snorted.

"That's because people are a pain to deal with."

"So then why not go out right now?"

I raised my eyebrow at that, but he continues on.

"Everyone's asleep during this hour. So you can explore the city freely without anyone to come and bother you."

That's... true actually. At night there aren't many people outside. And even then, during this time of hour they'd just be coffins. It's like time stills. I can't hear anything they say and their... coffin doesn't trail after me. I don't know how they perceive me when I'm in that state. Hardly anyone ever pays attention to me. And even if they had, no one has never confronted me about it.

"C'mon. Let's go, Higure."

He's not real.

He's just the result of a chemical irregularity in the brain. I know that if I were to accept his offered hand, even if he felt like flesh and blood and pulse, I'd only be grasping at air in the end. I know this like I know that the sun will always rise and set, whether we wanted it to or not.

He's not real.

I mustn't do anything that will blur the line of reality and fabrication.

And so I've made it a rule never to make physical contact with him.

I declined his offer like I always did before. He looked so incredibly crushed that if he were real, I might've felt guilty for hurting his 'feelings'.

"Remember what I said about having a lot of work to do right now? Let's go tomorrow instead, okay?"

It seemed to appease him well enough since he disappeared after that.

Now, it was only me in this room.

I closed my eyes and soaked in the silence.

* * *

The bell rang to my relief.

It meant that the day was finally over.

This enormous campus continues to feel like a maze and the names and faces of all the students students still come as a blur. The uncomfortable personal questions keep coming at me and I'm still being scrutinized heavily by Kirijo and Sanada. But at least I can go home now and take a break from all of that. As I began stuffing my notes and folders into my bag, my cellphone went off.

[gon 2 have a welcom bac 2 school party and ur invited! d=(´▽｀)=b happy hour nite escapade, try 2 b ther 10pm sharp]

Oh, that atrocious texting can only be Isako.

[Not interested.]

[WHAT!? Y NOT?]

Immediate reply. Gotta hand it to her though... her texting speed is on par with most teenage girls.

[I've got a lot of work to do. Like my lesson plans for this week.]

[but u got 2morrow's done right? the rest u can do l8er]

[I also quit drinking years ago. If I go there, I'm just going to end up babysitting a bunch of drunks.]

[still... it's been years since we last hung out 2gether. if u don't feel like drinking, there's always karaoke]

I made a face at that.

The last thing I wanted to do was sing.

In front of other people.

[Definitely not going to go then.]

[o come on UR KILLING ME HERE HIGURE. ヽ(#`Д´)ﾉ]

[Sorry... call it a rain check.]

I pocketed my cellphone only to feel it buzz in my hand again.

What, she's not done yet after all that? It's starting to get annoying now.

[I know it's rather sudden, but can you come over to my office?]

It's not Isako this time, but the sender's name was just as familiar and nostalgic.

It wasn't a request I could deny. I owed him after all.

I closed the door behind me as I stepped inside.

"Long time no see, Higure."

"Yeah. Long time no see, Ikutsuki-sensei."

"Just Ikutsuki is fine," he chuckled. "You're no longer my student anymore."

He motioned towards the chair in front of him and I curtly bowed and took a seat.

Never in a million years would I have guessed that the high school Math teacher I hated would turn out to be the one who hooked me up with my current job. To be fair, Ikutsuki-sensei was an easy-going teacher; nice guy, but terrible sense of humor. His lectures were easy enough to follow. I just hated mathematics in general and that hatred carried over to the guy who happened to be teaching it. Nothing personal. I didn't have many good memories regarding that subject, which was why I was an English teacher and not a Math teacher.

It was about a month ago when I unexpectedly ran into him. My return to Port Tatsumi Island was initially going to be a short vacation to attend my sister's wedding. I was killing some time by catching up with some familiar faces and I had just finished visiting my ex-girlfriend late at night when we had unexpectedly crossed paths. Initially, I was surprised he even recognized me, much less call out my name. I myself could barely remember the names and faces of former classmates from middle school, much less a decade's worth of students.

Yet somehow he did.

And he seemed very delighted to see me again. Which initially threw me off because I used to think he hated me as much as I hated him. When he learned that I was job hunting and offered me a place at Gekkoukan High School, I soon stopped caring about details of the past. A significantly more generous salary than what the other schools were offering me and the school was only a 20 minute ride by train to a cheap but fairly safe apartment complex. I would've been stupid to say no to that. Thus, I ended up settling back in Port Tatsumi Island.

"So what do you think of the school?"

I blinked.

"Ah, well..."

This Gekkoukan High was different from mine, from student body and staff right down to the architecture and the campus layout. It wasn't too hard for me to see them as separate schools. Which made it easier for me to completely disassociate myself from the unpleasant memories I had here 10 years ago. I'm not gonna lie. If it wasn't for Ikutsuki-sensei's suggestion, it never would have crossed my mind to even come back here. It was all the more cemented with the pressure I could feel as an employee of a Kirijo Group owned facility. But I couldn't afford to give my school chairman any bad impressions.

"It will take some time to adjust and get the hang of things, but I think I'll like it here."

Ikutsuki-sensei smiled.

"I'm glad to hear you say that. By the way..." Ah, so now he's going to cut the small talk. "How have you been feeling?"

... or so I thought?

I was taken aback.

"Uhm, what?"

"Your health," he laughed, as if that was the most obvious thing, "Have you been experiencing fatigue or dizziness or anything of the sort lately? Any irregularities with your sense of time?"

"... no. I feel perfectly fine."

I struggled to keep my face neutral despite the utter panic bells ringing in my mind. Did he somehow get wind of my condition? Is he trying to assess whether or not I was sane enough to handle this job? Does he think I'm going to be a threat to the student body?

This isn't good...

"_Really._"

I could see my nervous attempt of a smile reflected off the lenses of his glasses. One of the things I hated about Ikutsuki-sensei was that you can never tell what he's thinking when he's always smiling like that.

"Good to hear that my worries were for naught. I heard that the transition to another country overseas can be really taxing on your health. I know it's your home country we're talking about, but it's been a while after all."

"Ah, well... just a little bit. But it's nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"I'm glad to hear that."

...

... is that it?

Is that really all he called me here for?

To check up on my health?

"Uhm," I awkwardly began, "If that's all, then I'm going to take my leave now."

Huh.

Turned out to be the case after all because he let me leave with yet another smile and a simple response.

"Be careful out there won't you?"

Any doubts I had about his intentions disappeared. I gave Ikutsuki-sensei a weak laugh.

Geez. I come back home 8 years later with a teaching license and he's still treating me like I'm a high school student. Part of me wants to retort back sarcastically but I held it in.

"It'll be okay. I'm not going to do anything reckless like drinking and driving, so I can handle myself."

"Even so, Port Tatsumi isn't completely safe. Rumors of a bunch of strange happenings you know. People being reported missing. People getting shot and killed right after midnight. And I'm sure you haven't forgotten about Apathy Syndrome."

"Of course I haven't..."

A mental condition that emerged in the late 90s that, as far as I knew, had no known cures.

Symptoms consisting of a complete lack of response to one's surroundings, complete neglect of physical necessities like income, food, and shelter.

Possibly caused from exposure to stressful environments.

Loss of the ability to feel enjoyment or fulfillment in life.

... a lack of support from the people around you.

How could I possibly forget?

"But what does that have to do with anything?"

"It was on the news the other day. They're saying that the disease is resurging among the population again. It would be terrible if the same thing were to happen to you. Some strange and dangerous things can happen during the night."

"Thank you. I don't think such a thing is very likely, but I'll keep that in mind," I told him with a half-hearted smile.

* * *

It was getting close to midnight when I was about to leave my apartment.

I slipped on one of my many gray coats and began tying my shoelaces. I would've left earlier, but I wanted to wait for Pharos and bring him with me. After all, it was his idea in the first place and yet he was nowhere in sight...

"Hmph."

Well, he'll 'catch up' when he feels like it I supposed. Like he always liked to say, he was always with me no matter where I go. So he'll show himself eventually. I flung the door open and began walking down the hallways.

"..."

It's too quiet in here.

And with the lights dimming down, the whole area starts looking like a haunted house. As expected, the elevators weren't going to open for me so I began my search for the stairs. Running around this place all by myself... I supposed that if I was a character in a horror movie, I'd be one of the first to go. I know that having such thoughts are silly, but the coffins really weren't helping at all.

Moonlight hit my face as I passed by a window.

Curiously, I took a peak outside.

I remembered the first time the hallucinations kicked in, the moon back then was full just like this one. The possibility that I was sick in the head didn't occur to me at the time and it all felt so real. My first thought was how dead the city looked when all the lights disappeared. I remembered feeling incredibly small and terrified in the face of that unholy green moon. And I remembered thinking that maybe an apocalypse really was going to happen like all the rumors were saying.

_"Why bother with responsibility when you can just drink your troubles away?"  
_

___"... Pfft, have you seen the adults around us? They always look bored out of their asses doing the same repetitive jobs over and over and over again. But instead of doing something about it, they just complain how shitty their situation is and pine over their 'glory days'."_

_"Oh, well the predictions are pretty detailed you know. Let's see... there would be power outages, which would then affect things like transportation and the banks and..."_

_"Say, Higure. It's supposed to be the start of a brand new millenium and yet there's still poverty and wars. Maybe... maybe it'd be better if the world really did end."_

Suddenly, things took a turn for the worst.

It started with the rumbling of the ground.

My knees fell to the ground with a sharp thud and I winced.

Was it... getting louder...?

"Whoa!"

... Akihiko Sanada?

"Nakajima-sensei? What are you doing here?"

_I could ask you the same question. Unlike you, I actually live here._

It was at the tip of my tongue but then I noticed the gun in his hand.

Shit.

I'd known Port Tatsumi Island could be a little shady around nighttime, but I wasn't expecting to go through a robbery so soon. And from one of my own students no less. Ikutsuki-sensei's words come back to taunt me.

_____"Rumors of a bunch of strange happenings you know. __People being reported missing. _People getting shot and killed right after midnight."  


I swallowed.

"I know I just came back from America and all. But I don't really have anything of value in my apartment besides a couple of expensive textbooks."

And my cellphone and my laptop.

But admitting so would be asking to have those stolen.

Sanada followed my gaze and finally understood the source of my apprehension.

"Don't worry, it isn't loaded and I'm not here for that."

_Right. _

_Then why are you even carrying a gun in the first place?_

_How did you, a high school student, even manage to obtain one?_

_In __**Japan**__ of all places?_

I'm not reassured in the least, but I held it all in. The last thing I wanted to know was if he held some misplaced grudge against me. This is just my humble opinion, but I don't think I'm anywhere near Ekoda's popularity level. And even if he didn't come here to kill me, they did say that it was the nice ones that had a nasty temper...

"Look, I know you have a lot of questions, but now's not the time to explain all the details. All I can tell you is that there's a dangerous threat heading over here. Actually... your life could be in danger right now. It's probably best if you come follow me."

The way he worded that, it almost sounded like he was here to play bodyguard or police officer.

But.

_How the hell can I trust you when you give me vague answers like that?  
_

In the end, he's the one with the gun. I wasn't in any position to make any demands, so I obediently trailed after him.

"... Hey, Sanada?" I awkwardly began.

"Yes?"

"You say that there's a threat out there. Can I at least ask what we're up against?"

"That's..." He hesitated. "A big Shadow is heading our way."

Uh, _what_?

Excuse me?

"... Shadow?"

The wall to the left of us exploded with a thunderous boom. I winced, feeling the sharp sting of something cutting into my cheek. Instinctively, my fingers drew towards it, plucked it out so that I could hold it in front of my face, and examined it.

_Glass..._

A thin trail of blood dripped down my fingers and sank into the carpet. _My own blood_, my mind registers. Distantly, I could only assume that the glass came from one of the many windows that shattered from... whatever it was that caused them in the first place. And to my horror, it came crawling from the rubble, a frankenstein mass of arms and swords, black like a-

"Ah, so that's what you meant by a Shadow..." I numbly said.

_This is not real._

I wanted to file this whole situation away in my mind as another hallucination; a hallucination that felt terribly, terribly convincing. But the cut in my skin continues to burn and the drumming of my heartbeat only continues to grow louder — forehead running cold, breathing erratic, shaky hands... these symptoms of adrenaline rush are telling me that this thing in front of me is a predator.

That, hallucination or not, I will be in for a world of hurt if I take it lightly.

"Why don't you go out for a bit?" he said.

"You used to love taking chances," he said.

_Well look where it fucking got me!_

Despite the roaring, booming sound of blood drumming against my ears, they had yet to drown out Sanada's voice.

"Damn it," he hissed.

And I don't like the sound of it.

"What's wrong Sanada?"

"We were supposed to regroup with the others and fight this thing together. Looks like we're just going to have to do things the hard way."

So there was a group of others that he affiliated with. And they all knew of this thing's existence? I thought back to the gun he had brought with him, expecting him to pull it out. Looking back on it... if he'd known that this thing was coming, then it was clear that the gun was meant for this Shadow thing rather than me. That's what I thought, but then he... pulled into a boxing stance?

_What._

Just what the hell does he think he's doing? Don't tell me... oh man. Oh man, he's seriously going to take that thing on by himself!?

"Well, it'll be more fun this way."

Scratch that.

Maybe he brought the gun along because he's suicidal.

"Here I come! Rrrrrragh!"

All I could do was watch in amazement as he began pummeling the Shadow with his fists. The monster staggered after the fourth blow, proving that it was tangible, the undoubtedly powerful force behind those fists vibrating with each strike that connected. I'd thought that maybe he was just lucky. But it soon became clear that he wasn't Gekkoukan High's champion boxer for nothing. Not only was he able to handle his own against that monster, but he was able to send it crashing back through the walls from which it came from.

The toll of the battle kicked in at that moment. Portions of the hallway collapsed in on itself.

Then, there was silence.

"Huh, that was easier than I thought," the disappointment was plain in his voice.

As for me though, I was just glad that it was all over with.

I turned around to examine the extent of the damage. It was clear, now that I had a good look, that the hallway exit had caved in on itself. Which, if that monster was still alive, would definitely mean we were boned. But even if Sanada's fists didn't kill it, then all that debris falling on top of it should've definitely done the trick. I mean... it was almost completely dark, but I could sort of see what looked like a limp black hand so that mean it's totally not going to get back up and— it's getting back up. _It's getting back up._

Oh shi-

"WATCH OUT!"

Sanada had barely managed to dodge the first of the Shadow's many swords. One briefly grazed his jaw as he ducked under the second swing. In the time between that and the next series of attacks, he was able to disarm one of the its swords with a mighty strike.

Which left him with only enough time to leap out of the way at the next attack— a calculated low sweep that was intended to knock him off his feet, quickly followed by two more swords that stabbed into the ground where he should have been, had it succeeded. Sanada wisely moved backwards to create more distance between them with nothing more than a few tears in his clothes. Any lesser man would have been cut to pieces in that flurry of blades.

But instead of feeling deterred by the fact that he was nearly impaled to death, I could only see the primal excitement in his eyes and the hunter's grin blazing on his face.

He looked nothing like the stoic, serious student from my classroom mere hours ago.

In that brief opening, he raised his gun... to his **_head_**.

_Oh my god._

It was like a bullet had gone through my chest, jolts running through my bones. It was like something cold had wrapped itself around my ankles, locking me to the ground and preventing me from moving.

But I wanted to.

No, not want...

I...

I _had_ to do something.

I should be running up to him and intervene. Pull the gun away from him and tell him that there was a better answer than this. Even though the fight was hopeless, we could turn around and try to find another way out of here, leave it up to the police.

But in the frayed corners of my mind, I can feel a miserable memory creeping up. A girl stands where Sanada is standing, pale-skin and corpse eyes chanting over and over, _I'm tired. I'm so... so tired_._ I just... want it all to e—_

**—BAM. **

The monster swatted the gun out of his hand, the sound of it clattering to the floor echoing like a death sentence.

Oh, oh fucking hell.

It was only then, with reality snapping back in place, that my senses came back and I could move. I only had a moment.

_To do what?_

And there it was, gleaming under the green moonlight, Sanada's gun a few feet away from me.

"Hey asshole!"

The monster turned towards my direction. If it had eyes, we'd be making eye contact right now.

"Get the fuck out of my head," I hissed, trembling hands trying to steadily point the gun at its mask.

_Click._

A blank.

_Click. Click._

More blanks.

Okay. _What the shit._

I examined the gun and what do you fucking know —_ this thing wasn't built to carry bullets_. Oh, sure, there's a magazine attached to it but I can't rip it out and figure out why the hell it wasn't working.

Why isn't it working!?

"Nakajima-sensei!"

My body hurled towards the ground with a thud, but it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. It was only until I heard a second thud, one much louder followed by a painful crack, that I realized Sanada pushed me out of the away and took the blow instead. I know I should be thankful for his sacrifice but...

"Why the hell are you carrying around a gun for self-defense if you can't even shoot it!?"

"It's... it's not a real gun," Sanada grunted through his injuries.

"What!?"

"It's called an evoker!"

An evo-wha?

I didn't have time to ask Sanada anymore questions because another fist slammed into his head and knocked him out.

_Fuck._

Now what?

"Higure."

...!

I whipped around to find a boy standing next to me nonchalantly as if he had been there the whole time.

"Pharos...? The fuck? Right now's not a good time t-"

The boy held out a single finger, as if to demand silence, "If you don't want to die..."

He pointed that same finger at his temple.

In the same way Sanada had with his evoker.

I stared at Pharos incredulously. "You're telling me to _shoot_ myself...?"

He gazed back me with utmost seriousness. "It's going to keep coming after you unless you do something, Higure."

My mind briefly recoiled back to the 3 feet fissure in the ground carved by that Shadow's sword. I did _not_ like the thought of being chased around by a monster capable of something like that that for the rest of my life.

"But. How is that... this gun isn't even loaded! Why would-"

"_Trust me_."

Somehow, the suicidal gesture of putting a fake gun to my head and pulling the trigger will increase my chances of survival.

This entire notion is retarded, an oxymoron even. There was no precedent for it. No logic behind it.

Pharos was asking me to take a leap of faith.

But.

What other options do I have left now?

The exit collapsed, cutting off any means of escape. Pulling the trigger on the Shadow did jack shit to it. Then there was the fact that Sanada, a younger guy who was much more athletic, had just gotten swatted away like a fly by that monster.

And now said monster was coming for _me_.

My hands trembled as I brought cold muzzle to my temple.

I closed my eyes.

Images began flashing through my mind as I felt an electric force surging through my spine, down my limbs, and to my fingertips. This power, it's called

"Per-"

_An explosion erupted in the distance._

"So-"

_A human-like silhouette in the moonlight, blue eyes spinning down at us in electric wheels._

"Na."

_'Are you going to kill us?'_

_'No.'_

**BANG!**

There's the echoing sound of glass shattering in my head and more.

_**Thou art I, and I am thou.**_

_**From the sea of thy soul I cometh.**_

_**I am Orpheus, master of strings.**_

Great.

So it turns out the gun can do _something_ and I'm not dead. But now I'm starting to hear voices. Like I wasn't already questioning my sanit-fuuuuUUU**UUUUCK**

its as if

there are hammers pounding my head into oblivion

a thousand needles sliding through my ears

cold coagulated blood bubbling up in my throat

i feel like

i

im gonna

a scream rips out of my throat

high above me that orpheus is howling too

there are

there are no bullets in this evoker

so why does it feel like im were gonna die

our head is

split

ing

_**I am death, the inevitable fate that awaits even time itself.  
**_

through the whites of my eyes

i stared

im frozen

as that _thing_ that crawled out from the shredded remains of orpheus

leaping at our prey

that other shadow

the executioners sword poised in the air

shredding it to pieces

the mask shatters

black inklike substance spilling

slipping through our fingers

sinking into nothingness

until theres only a limb left on the ground flailing squirming desperate to exist

but it is futile

we are absolute

_**Crush it.**_

_...on't feel like going to school anymore. It's just the same boring routine day after day, and everyone's so god damn stu..._

_... the hell did SHE get the promotion? All she ever does is sit with her cellphone all day while the rest of us are working our asses off. That bitch must've s..._

_... know. I know! I know it's bad not to know what I want to do at 24 but I just..._

___... amn waste of my time..._

And then there was silence.

Silence in the air and silence in my mind.

The pain vanished as quickly as it came.

Only now did I realize that I was clutching my head the entire time. I don't know what happened to me. I don't know what the fuck is happening at all. All I know is that there's Orpheus, floating above me as if he hadn't been ripped apart by Thanatos — _like __**hell**_ _if I know how I came to know any of that_ — who, speaking of which, was no longer around. But I'd be perfectly fine if that freak never shows up again, because it's a miracle that my head was still in one piece after all of that.

Damn it, Pharos. You should've given me a heads up.

...!

That's right.

"Hey! Pharos!"

But he was nowhere in sight.

_Disappearing again on me huh? When I find that brat, I'll..._

I felt chills running down my spine.

Literally.

The air temperature suddenly dropped several degrees. Formations of ice began to solidify around a portion of one of the walls. There was the sound of cracks, and then the blocks of ice imploded on themselves. Emerging from the mist came three silhouettes.

Shit, I just can't catch a fucking break can I?

I tensed, tightening my grip on the gun. They looked human enough but...

"Senpai!"

"Nakajima-sensei!"

Huh?

Kirijo?

... and Takeba?

Whoa, whoa, Ikutsuki-sensei too!?

"Why are you guys-"

"Everyone be on guard! There's three more coming this way!"

Just as Kirijo said that, I could hear the sound of liquid squishing and bubbling through the cracks into the hallway. Black nothingness, the same substance as that Shadow, began to coalesce into the distinctive shape of three lesser Shadows, each with a mask of their own. And they gave off that same oppressive hostilities as the last one that died.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Are you serious!?" I hissed.

Definitely can't catch a fucking break.

I instinctively took a step backwards, only to feel my balance going a little wobbly. Yeah, that... evoker thing definitely did a number on me. I know now that I can kill these monsters with it, but I hesitated all the same. That crazy ass tripping out happened after I used the evoker and I'm afraid that if I use it again I really will get lobotomized.

I heard a gasp from behind.

It's Takeba. She has an evoker of her own pressed against her temple, but her eyes are squeezed shut surely from terror. It was that little action that pushed me to step in front of her and take a deep breath.

Ugh, okay. Let's do this.

"ORPHEUS!"

I feel my energy draining with the simple action of pulling the trigger. Maybe it's because I can't sense Thanatos. Or maybe I'm actually getting adjusted to this evoker thing. But I don't feel like something's trying to tear its way out of my body. And now that my consciousness and my five senses weren't hindered by that, I could get a better look at Orpheus. His skin was ash and his eyes glowed inhumanely red. For someone who claimed to be me, he looked more like those Shadows over there. But he had no qualms about charging at them to attack.

**BOOM.**

The frays of my sanity must've been melting away because I could feel a force vibrate up my right arm at the exact instance Orpheus' right arm punched a hole into the middle Shadow's mask. Soon we were a single mind in two bodies.

One of the remaining Shadows wildly swung at us. But we ducked, leapt to the right at the other Shadow's attack, and turned around.

_**If you're a Shadow, then our course of action is clear.**_

Bright flames erupted from our fingers, one fireball after another, and consumed them. Where the magician before them had dissipated away into silence, these two wailed in pain. More voices floated into our heads just like the last time. But now we understood them to be the lingering thoughts of the humans those Shadows derived from.

_... WOW, way to say thank you, lady. I swear to god I..._

_... Ah, fuck it. I'm done. I'm just done with everyth...  
_

___... so pointless, I'm just gonna..._

Soon, they drifted away into silence.

The Shadows were gone now, our mission complete.

Orpheus closed his eyes and vanished.

I opened mine only to see the room starting to tilt back and forth like an unstable seesaw.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah," I groaned. "Peachy, nice... bed I... g-good night everybody."

"Nakajima-sensei!"

Takeba's distressed face was the last thing I remembered seeing before everything went black.

* * *

White ceiling.

White sheets.

The mattress I'm lying on is incredibly comfortable.

Aaand my neighbor's obnoxious pop music isn't playing next door.

Okay, this is definitely not my room either.

"Ah, he's awake."

There's a voice nearby that feels faintly familiar, but before I had time to try to figure out where I'd heard it from, someone rushed at me and squeezed my body with a fierce hug.

"Oh my god Higure you're finally awake!"

!

"M-mom!?"

And standing behind her was my sister.

"Wh-what's going oOOOOW!"

"I nearly had a heart attack when they phoned us, asking us to come to the hospital. You were asleep for 10 days and you wouldn't wake up no matter what we said and, and I thought..."

Wait, hospital!?

Why the hell am I in a hospital?

To my disbelief her vice-like grip on me tightened even more.

"AaaAAAGH! You're going to kill me at this rate Mom!"

But she ignored me and sobbed deeper into my chest.

"I told you didn't I?" my sister chided. "I told you that living in that old and dinky apartment wasn't a good a good idea. And what do you know, someone's Showa-era stove exploded."

...!

That's right.

Last night... last night I...

"... unfortunately, they were only able to secure your belongings. Your flat itself, is, well..."

_I'm alive._

I stared at my hands and wiggled them for good measure.

If I just ignored my mother's death grip, then my body felt perfectly fine. No pain or numbness. Not even a splitting headache or a hangover. If anything, it just felt like waking up from a long, long nap.

"... you should've just accepted mom's invitation to move back in with us when she offered the first time, I know you don't want to depend o..."

So all those creepy voices I was hearing, the sword-wielding mask monsters, and Sanada's fake gun that I blew my brains out with... all of that was just a terrible, terrible nightmare.

But if that's the case then why is it that the people in my dream are now in this very room observing us? I don't remember being all that close to them to warrant a hospital visit. And what's up with Sanada's cast?

"Hey, Yuriko-neesan..."

My sister followed my gaze over to where my students were standing at.

"Oh yeah. They're the ones who found you and called us up. Actually, this place is her family-owned hospital," Yuriko folded her hands and briefly bowed her head. "Thank you for taking care of my little brother by the way, if there's any way our family could repay your family's kindness..."

Kirijo only shook her head and smiled.

"It's no big deal. I'm just glad to see that he's finally recovered."

The way things looked, it was as if last night — _er, that night, ten days ago _— wasn't a painfully ugly nightmare.

That the night of April 9th was not a hallucination.

The implications of that thought were more terrifying than anything else that had occurred that night.

No.

No... none of that was real.

Like Yuriko said, it was only a gas stove malfunctioning. So Sanada probably lived in the same floor or something and got caught up in the blast. Must've been real close when the explosion happened to have his arm in a cast like that. I don't remember any of that happening at all but it made a lot more sense than... whatever the hell that dream was supposed to be. Freud always did say that dreams were a product of the subconscious. Wait, no, he said it was a result wish fulfillment. Shit, who was it tha-

"Listen."

I snapped out of my thoughts and met Kirjo's calm gaze.

"I know you have a lot of questions on your mind right now."

Biggest understatement of the century.

"But right now is... not the right time to go into detail about that."

I looked down at my mother, still holding on to me tightly.

Their stares were starting to become more and more unbearable.

To the point where I wished my arms weren't tied up so I can crawl under the sheets and bury my head in my pillows.

"We can talk later."

"F-fair enough," I conceded.

"Here."

I examined the piece of paper she handed me... directions to a student dorm? And some kind of logo along with the word "S.E.E.S." printed on top of it. I'm not sure what the hell that's supposed to mean, but I guess can save those questions for later.

"Please come to the dorm whenever you're ready."

"Alright."

No rush.

I needed to take this time to evaluate the damage that's been done anyways. But when I meet up with them again, I expected all of my questions to be cleared up.

* * *

"Okay. Let me start off by asking you this... would you believe me if I said that a day consisted of more than 24 hours?"

I blankly stared.

Takeba nervously wrangled her hands in her lap.

Ikutsuki-sensei simply smiled.

"... excuse me?"

D-did I hear that right...?

I'm pretty sure that's I heard but... if that's really what he said... _what the actual fuck_.

"I'm not surprised by your reaction," Kirijo told me with a chuckle. "But you've already experienced this truth firsthand."

Oh god.

Not my honor student too.

I looked over to Takeba and Sanada but they only looked back at me as if we were just having your typical morning homeroom discussion.

Am I being tested here?

It must be a test to... I don't know... see if I'm qualified to be a high school teacher. Because I can't see any other reason why I'd be asked such a—

"You had to have noticed the signs... The streetlights went out... Nothing was working... There were coffins everywhere... Didn't it _feel_ like you were in a different time...? That's the Dark Hour—a time period hidden between one day and the next."

...!

Hold the phone.

"You mean... to tell me that..."

"Yes," Ikutsuki-sensei smiled. "Those unnatural experiences you've been having are not the result of schizophrenia, Higure."

...

So they knew about my medical history.

No.

What the hell am I saying.

Of course they would.

There was no way the Kirijo group would just let some random schmuck come in to teach at their school without doing a thorough background check on him, even if he was a former student. If they believed in this Dark Hour theory, then it would make sense why they'd hire someone who has been diagnosed with a mental disorder. But I just chalked up my acceptance as a result of my family's background and Ikutsuki-sensei's recommendation and accepted it like an idiot.

Still, I couldn't swallow a bizarre story like that so easily.

I've spent the past 10 years drawing the line between sanity and insanity, and what they were telling me would basically wipe it all out.

"... if there really is an extra hour that is... uuuh... 'hidden' as you worded it, then why am I the only one who can see it?"

"Except you're not the only one," Sanada corrected. "We can see them too. Normal people don't realize it, since they're all sleeping inside their coffins. But, that's not what makes the Dark Hour so interesting."

'Oh, normal people are just sleeping when all of this happens'.

'Only the certain, special chosen are able to experience the Dark Hour.'

Right. Okay. That's... convenient for their explanation I suppose.

But that tidbit about something more creepier than everyone turning into coffins...

D-do I really want to know what it is?

And what's up with the grin?

"Those Shadows only appear during the Dark Hour, and attack anyone not in a coffin. It's our job to defeat them. ...Sounds exciting, huh?"

No, not at all actually.

I wonder how he can say that when those freaking Shadows _hospitalized_ him.

"Akihiko!"

But it seems someone else was thinking along the same lines.

"Why are you always like that?" Kirijo's eyes narrowed. "You just got hurt the other day!"

"Now, now," Ikutsuki-sensei chuckled. "He does his work well."

This is just _work_ to them?

Ikutsuki-sensei must've seen the look on my face because he looked at me and continued, "Long story short, we're the Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad-SEES for short. On paper, we're classified as a school club. But in reality, this group is dedicated to defeating the Shadows. Mitsuru is the leader. I'm the club advisor."

Anime clubs.

Host clubs.

Occult clubs.

Chicken Cutlet clubs.

Paranormal investigation clubs.

Bentou clubs.

Underwear clubs.

And now a Shadow _hunting_ club...

I thought only school life manga could get creative, but I guess I was wrong.

And taking into account who the club leader and club advisor are, no doubt it's sponsored by the Kirijo Group. They mean serious business.

"A Shadow feeds on the mind of its prey; the victim becomes a living corpse. They're responsible for most of the incidents on the news, if not all of them."

...

I took this information in and I stared long and hard at Kirijo and Ikutsuki.

"So... those cases of apathy syndrome are the result of a Shadow attack."

"... correct."

A lot of people I knew suffered due to apathy syndrome.

A senior who missed out on a free ride to Tokyo U because he had to be hospitalized for nearly a year. A star athlete who had to go through rehabilitation for his legs because they deteriorated by the time he woke up. A single mother who killed herself so that the life insurance could pay off her only daughter's medical fees. And some of them still haven't even woken up from it yet.

If these people know my medical history, then they'd already know this too.

It was a bold claim, saying that all of these tragedies were the work of monsters.

I'm starting to think that my encounter with Sanada that night was no coincidence.

"Okay, if that's the case then the police haven't been doing their jobs very well."

"Unfortunately," Kirijo began to explain, "The police can't do anything during the Dark Hour..."

Going back to how only a select few are awake during that time.

Hence the necessity of having a counterforce in the form of... a high school club...

Right.

"I'm sorry," Well, I'm not sorry at all but I'm going to say it anyway, "But I find it hard to believe that you brought me all this way right after getting discharged from the hospital just to give me a brief lecture on something you guys know plenty about. Telling me about S.E.E.S. and its objectives... you came to talk to me because there's something you wanted from me... am I right? If I had to guess, I'd say that you want me to join your group."

"Yes... that's right."

Even though I said that, I was hoping that wasn't the case. Speaking of cases...

"So then, then in that briefcase is..."

"I see you've got a sharp eye," Ikutsuki sounded pleased at this. "Yes, we've prepared an evoker for you."

Kirijo stood up and moved over to open it up.

I see they also tossed in a matching armband to boot too.

"Okay," I've been saying that a lot this week. "This... is kind of a lot to take in. I need time to think it over."

"I understand. Take as much time as you need."

"Thank you."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

My old man always used to say that when there's someone claiming an absolute truth, question the hell out of them.

And who wouldn't in my situation?

They were claiming shit that cultists _wished_ they had the creativity to come up with.

So there's actually 25 hours in a day.

Okay, that _could_ explain why I was tripping out every single day. And I guess the whole time zone difference I experienced in America adds credence to that theory. Doesn't explain the power outages or the creepy blood effect though. And when clocks aren't working, it's really hard to tell if it's _exactly_ an hour that passes, but I guess I'm just being picky now.

Still if what they say is true... then that means that past 9 years I had been diagnosed with schizophrenia were actually just a _mistake_. There was no need to take thousands of yen out of my salary to pay for years worth of medication and therapy. I was actually sane and normal the entire time! It was all actually just an irregular phenomenon occurring in mother nature that only a selective few can consciously experience and remember, that's all. Hahahahaha-_ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?_

I buried my head in my hands and angrily hissed a string of words I knew I shouldn't be using in front of Ikutsuki-sensei and the students. But I could care less at this point. How _could_ I care about the reactions of the people around me, when all of them are _over the moon screw-loosed crackbrained psychotically __**out of their god damned minds insane**_.

_Or maybe you're the one who's in denial._

Great.

Now there's a voice in my head that wants me to believe in this half-baked bullshit.

_You picked up that evoker and pulled the trigger believing it would produce a miracle._

Hey, shooting myself in the head was Pharos' idea.

I had no choice but to listen to him.

If I didn't do something, they would've killed me.

_Ah yes, see. That's the thing. _

_How can something that shouldn't exist kill you?_

...

Th-that's...

_Something that shouldn't exist in the real world should not, by definition, have a physical body whatsoever.  
_

_And without a physical body it would not be capable of inflicting pain, much less death._

_Yet when you faced them you felt fear. _

Anyone would flip out if a freaky ass monster like that popped out of nowhere after a huge explosion!

_And in the end you chose to engage in combat with those so-called imaginary monsters.  
_

_Twice._

_Easily, you could've just chalked it all up to being a surreal hallucination and ignore it._

_After all, if it wasn't real it wouldn't be able to do anything to you._

Ugh...

_Rationalize it all you want, but it's true.  
_

_You were afraid of them because there's a part of you that acknowledged the existences of those 'Shadows'._

_Those 'hallucinations' you experienced daily... if that was truly all they were, then there are contradictions to that explanation. _

_But you never questioned them._

_You, who questioned gossips, religions, conspiracy theories, didn't **want** to._

... because I'm in denial?

_Yes._

And... just what... would those contradictions be?

_You know the answers to that question.  
_

...

Shit.

All this contemplating is getting me nowhere and I still don't know what to make of any of this. I still don't know what to do.

Well, actually, there _is_ something I want to do.

I want to punch something.

Where the hell is Pharos so I can punch him for dragging me into this mess?

If he's even... even real-_shit_, is he even real!?

If he's real then how the hell does he know all this shit about me?

How does he know about Shadows?

How does he know that those Kirijo custom-made evokers could kill them?

How does he pull off that damned appearing and disappearing act?

Why is he eternally 8 years old?

Where the hell is his mother?

And what the fuck is up with his clothes!?

God _damnit_.

Auuuuugh!

Okay, Higure. Let's take a deep breath.

Count to 3.

1...

2...

3...

Alright.

Calm down and think this over.

_Let's say all of this is true._

There's enough excitement in my life as is.

My apartment is now a pile of rubble.

I can now say I've been hospitalized at least once in my life... for the duration of a whole week.

And there will be a huge ass bill to prove it too.

But at least I managed to get out of that situation without getting crippled in the process!

... which only means that if those... Shadow things... continue chasing after me, there's a good chance I might not make it out of Port Tatsumi alive.

God damnit. This whole entire thing really **sucks**.

I've already got so much bullshit on my plate.

So do I _really_ need to add 'midnight police' to the list?

No.

No, I don't.

The last thing I needed was to make this hole any deeper than it already is.

_Because let's be real here, Higure._

_You know what you are, and what you are not. _

_You are not a hero. _

_You are not some outstanding citizen. _

_You never were, and you never will be. Anyone with an ounce of common sense knows that a loser who has spent more time in a library over a gym doesn't belong in any battlefields._

_You're not suicidal. _

_Even if shooting yourself in the head with fake guns may have led anyone into thinking otherwise._

Despite all this reasoning, I knew it wouldn't be that easy to simply decline.

This is the Kirijo group we're talking about.

A family that is said to have more influence over Japan than most politicians had over their own cities. And I'm working at their school, living on their privately owned _island_. If they wanted to, they could probably strip me of a job and keep me confined here forever. Thinking about things like that, it's a wonder why they're even bothering with the farce of giving me a choice. A painful death at the hands of monsters, or a slow death in poverty and possibly something more terrible.

...

Shit. I should've taken that transfer over to Inaba after all. Though, maybe it wasn't too late. I knew it was only wishful thinking, but I seriously contemplated the idea of running away, finding some shelter with the relatives I had over there, rebuilding my life from scratch, and forgetting this whole mess had ever happened.

_And yet..._ a different, tinier, softer voice in my head started to whisper, _...won't you feel like a complete asshole when you flip through the newspapers and find one of these kids in the obituaries?  
_

_Look at them. _

_Look at all __**four**__ of them gathered around you. That's all they have. Two girls, a middle-aged man, and a boxer who busted his ribs trying to save __**your**__ ass. Do you _really_ think they'll last, at the rate they're going? You may be a loser, but you're not completely heartless._

_Are you?_

...

I raised my head from my hands and accidentally made eye contact with those kids.

I shouldn't have done that.

Because they reminded me that my former classmates were their ages when apathy syndrome first started cropping up...

...

...

Fuck my conscience.

I took a deep breath.

And another.

And another.

Then I opened my mouth to speak the words that I knew will damn me.

"... I'll join you guys."

Kirijo's eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

Sanada gave me a nod of approval.

Takeba breathed out a sigh of relief.

And Ikutsuki held out his hand with a sunny smile on his face.

Reluctantly, I shook it. I haven't even gotten my first task yet, and I was already starting to feel stressed out by the weight of the expectations I could feel building up on my shoulders.

"But."

It took all my willpower to keep my gaze firm as I spoke to Kirijo and Ikutsuki-sensei.

"Only until S.E.E.S. becomes self-sufficient enough to handle those things without my help. Is that acceptable?"

Look at me, pretending that I had any control over how things are going to go.

But Kirijo played along.

"That's reasonable enough."

And just like that, I went from slowly drowning to being barely afloat.

The arrangements were simple.

Needlessly busy and no doubt stressful as hell to accomplish, but simple enough to understand.

My day-time occupation would remain as it was originally intended: an ordinary high school English teacher. After classes were over, I would be the manager - _in name only_ - of the special dorm these S.E.E.S. students were residing in. Which, really, was just an excuse to keep me near their base of operations for when the Shadow exterminating begins. At the end of the day, it would mean working overtime for the Kirijo Group.

"Naturally, we'll be increasing your salary for enlisting your services," Ikutsuki-sensei told me.

"Try to have all of your belongings packed by tomorrow morning, 9AM sharp," Kirijo added. "That's when the moving company will arrive."

"Wait, what?"

To my annoyance, Ikutsuki-sensei only chuckled.

"You'll be living with us. How else is the dorm manager going to manage the dorm if he doesn't have a room of his own? Ah, don't worry though. You won't need to concern yourself with making any rent payments. That's not going to be a problem is it?"

"... no, it's not like I really had any other place in mind. Well, I was going to go spend the night at a hotel or something along those lines. But this would be more convenient..."

"Hahaha. Well then, you're in luck."

All of this... everything... was flowing _way_ too smoothly for comfort.

Accepting each 'generosity' they offered only felt heavier and heavier. To the point where that red armband was pretty much taunting me. The way it was now, I was obligated to repay them back... through the only service they wanted out of me. If I thought about it more, they made all of these arrangements beforehand without even knowing if I would agree to work with them or not... as if there was only one option in the beginning after all. Perhaps that was part of Kirijo's and Ikutsuki-sensei's agenda in keeping me handcuffed to whatever goals they had in mind.

... Which, for all the long and bizarre explanations they had given me on Shadows and the Dark Hour, they hadn't really elaborated on what the end game to all of this was. I seriously doubted it was as simple as keeping peace on the streets.

I mean, ten years ago there was an explosion at this school, _their_ school.

And half of the student body had to be hospitalized due to apathy syndrome.

These people know about Shadows and how to kill them with their custom guns.

No doubt a technology behind the evokers that they, as a company, easily had the budget and the scientists to develop.

Which means that they had to have had some sort of data on those Shadows to base their evokers on.

Research on those Shadows... _samples_ of those Shadows to work with...

So... if it's not to play midnight police, it's possible I am to be a test subject to provide further data on the performance of those evokers.

Or, if the evokers are already perfected... then maybe they needed a toy soldier for some political agenda.

...

...

...

Fuck it.

I'm giving this way too much thought.

Even if I knew what their end game was, it wouldn't really make much of a difference. It's not like I could really do anything about it. I've already decided to join them, if only temporarily... All I could hope was that Kirijo would be true to her word.

There was one thing I needed clarified though.

"Do you have any more questions?"

I sighed.

"Actually... yeah, I do," I warily began. "Can we go over my health care benefits again?"


End file.
